


Father

by Gumnut



Series: Tales of Sotto Voce [7]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-08-01 04:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16277669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: Perhaps it was worth the pain, in some small way.





	Father

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Father  
> A Tale of Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 10 – 13 Oct 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: Perhaps it was worth the pain, in some small way.  
> Word count: 6627  
> Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2, Sotto Voce and Il Mago  
> Timeline: Set shortly after Il Mago.  
> Author’s note: So here we are. This took longer than expected and I’m not really sure it is what it needed to be, but it is what it is. This was written for @the-lady-razorsharp who welcomed me into this wonderful fandom, showed me around and continues to be a wonderful inspirator (and a fabulous writer as well :D). Thank you, hon, for everything. I so hope you enjoy this.  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

“JOHN!”

Virgil staggered sideways into his father’s desk as Eos screamed through his mind. He grabbed his head, gasping at the fear and the terror, assaulting his brain. “God!” His elbow hit the woodwork, his feet slipping from beneath him.

“Virgil!”

Scott’s yell added to the clamour and he scrunched his eyes shut.

And then came the images. Shit! “John!”

He vaguely heard his big brother yelling for Thunderbird Five, but all he could see was John coming in contact with an arc of electricity, his body spasming, smoke, oh god. Virgil’s stomach roiled. Eos’ emotion rolled over him in waves. The hardwood floor leapt up and hit him.

_Eos_

_Eos, please_.

 _John_!

_I-I know. Get help._

Images of Brains rushing to his brother’s aid. Alan not far behind him.

A hand touched his cheek. He jumped and flinched away, skidding on the floor, coming up hard against the base of his father’s desk.

“Virgil?”

Scott.

He forced his eyes open and found wooden floor out of focus. He turned his head and encountered the concerned face of his brother. “John’s hurt.”

”We know. Brains and Alan have him.” A pause. “You?”

Virgil swallowed bile. “Been better.” He put his hands on the floor and attempted to push himself up. Predictably, Scott grabbed him when he faltered, his brother lifting him under his arms and helping him into a sitting position against the desk.

Eos still roiled in his head, agitated, scared, worried.

Virgil ran his hands over his face. “Damn.” Images flickered through his mind. John prone, unresponsive. Brains and Alan darting around him. Reaching out, he sought information.

His brother was not responding.

Virtual sparks as the cardiostimulator was applied.

Concerned words, controlled panic reached the mic pickups. Alan yelling at his brother.

Limp blond-red hair.

Please, John.

Eos wailed in his ear.

Please.

The electronic registration of a single heartbeat was one of the most wonderful sounds he had ever heard. But not so much as the second, the third, or the rapidly increasing rhythm of beats that followed. The sight of John drawing in breath was beautiful.

“He’s back.” Alan’s voice was a whimper.

Eos’ intensity dropped a grade and Virgil found himself releasing a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. His mind felt fuzzy. Someone was yelling.

Scott?

And he realised what he had done.

Shit.

Catching the sound of John’s heartbeat with his own, he stepped backwards, letting himself fall back to where he belonged.

There were arms around him. He was being held.

His face was wet.

Blue eyes. Worry. Cursing.

“G-Grandma’s goin’ to kick your ass.”

Thinned lips. “Not as far as she will kick yours.”

“True.” His voice was hoarse. “J-John’s alive.”

“Alive?”

Whispered. “Alive.”

-o-o-o-

Alive is a relative term. Anything can be alive. A potato up to the point of boiling is alive, peeling it one of the most horrifying concepts around.

Unfortunately, his brother was just as unresponsive as a potato. They stabilised him, they got him home and into the infirmary. He was alive, heart beating, breathing on his own, but no matter what they did, he wouldn’t wake up.

Virgil was absolutely horrified to discover that the accident had occurred due to his actions. When he had diverted the power in Thunderbird Five to electrify the airlock in an attempt to repel the invaders, he had inadvertently electrified several other undetected sections of the station.

He rubbed his hands over his face, his elbows on the bed beside his prone brother. “I’m so sorry, John. I...” What else could he say?

_I should have detected it._

_Another sigh. Eos..._

_No, it was my responsibility to check for damage._

_It is not your fault._

_Then how can it possibly be yours?_

Virgil didn’t answer.

It had been three days. His brother was now hooked up to several IVs and other invasive support mechanisms, his unconscious body needing assistance to survive. The usually agile, calm and kind man now lay pale, his hair unkempt and limp, eyes bruised smudges on his lifeless face, hands wrapped in copious bandages.

Virgil reached over and ran his fingers through that blond and red hair, attempting to straighten it out, forcing the flick to behave itself.

“C’mon, John, speak to me.” Virgil’s voice was little above a whisper. “I can’t do this without you.” And the statement was suddenly true. Spoken without thought, Virgil realised that through everything that had happened to him in the last few months, John had been there, even when Virgil was too terrified to see him, John had stood strong while his brother dragged him through the mud. He had done everything in his power, everything, to support Virgil. “God, don’t let a faulty circuit be your epitaph, you are worth so much more than that. So much more.”

He needed his brother’s dry wit. He needed his calm voice. He needed him.

Virgil let his head drop to the bed.

Please.

-o-o-o-

On the fifth day Scott hauled in Virgil’s neurologist. It was the third time the man had been dragged out to Tracy Island, but the first time for anyone other than Virgil.

Virgil managed a weak smile for him when he arrived and the doctor gave him a look that clearly said he would expect to see him for a check up later.

John’s scans were far less dramatic than Virgil’s but no less frightening. The EEG said John was there. His brain activity clearly indicated that what made John John was active. What it didn’t say is why he wasn’t responding. All indications said he should be waking. But he wasn’t.

Doctor Emery stared at all the scans, once again commenting how he would love to have their equipment in his hospital. “There does not appear to be any brain damage.” He pointed to one spot. “Did he suffer a recent concussion?”

Both Virgil and Scott started. “Yes. There was an accident. He was thrown across a room.”

“And he received a severe electrical shock. Perhaps a combination of the two? I’m unsure. What was his emotional state prior to the accident?”

Virgil stared at the man. Scott managed an answer. “Emotions have been running high of late.” Scott was not looking at Virgil, but Virgil knew that yet again he was a cause.

Dr Emery looked between them both. “Understandable.” A pause. “The reason I ask is that with the absence of an obvious physical reason, my instinctive next step is to look for a psychological reason.”

There was silence in the room for a moment. Then Virgil opened his mouth. “You mean he might not want to wake up?”

The expression in the doctor’s eyes was kind. “Yes, it is a possibility.”

Virgil swallowed.

Scott took over the conversation from there, Virgil drifting, thoughts spinning through his head. Why wouldn’t John want to wake up?

Life had been pretty shitty of late, but it was on the improve. He and John had spoken at length just recently. With the Maggot incident, Virgil had turned a corner and no longer felt that instinctive fear of his brother...well, nothing he was going to mention to the man. Things had slowly been getting back to normal. Hell, Virgil had been spending his time fixing Thunderbird Two as much as John had been repairing his girl. International Rescue was still mostly offline, but they were getting there.

Everything had been getting better.

“And how are you feeling, Virgil?”

He jumped. Emery was looking at him with enquiring eyes, the intelligence behind them sharp. “I checked with Joshua Slick on my way over here. He said you missed your last appointment.”

“Uh, yeah, I was unavoidably detained. IR business.” His consciousness had been in orbit at the time.

“Other than that, he was very positive about your progress. How are the headaches? Your sleep pattern?”

“Still get the occasional headache.” He’d had a doozy five days ago due to his inadvertent trip upstairs. Scott and Grandma had been furious with him once he had recovered. “Sleeps good.” Mostly. Occasional nightmare notwithstanding. “Still snooze from time to time.” He still owed Gordon for the pink nail polish pedicure from the last incident of crashing by the pool.

“Uh, huh.” God, the man’s eyes were boring into his brain. “Any neurological incidents you would like to report?”

“Uh, no.”

“Are you sure?”

Virgil frowned. “Yes, sure, Doc.”

“Very well.”

He didn’t believe him. Virgil didn’t know why, but the neurologist, now looking away, clearly did not believe a word he had said. Something cold crawled up his spine. He felt Scott’s eyes on him and behind the doctor’s back, Virgil made it very clear that he now wanted the man off the island. As soon as possible.

His brother obliged, wrapping up the conversation and the consultation quickly and walking the man out to the airstrip.

Virgil didn’t go with him. Instead he put a call into Lady Penelope. They needed to do another check on the doctor.

Something had changed.

-o-o-o-

By the end of the week, there had still been no improvement in John’s condition and the family were getting frantic.

Eos had begun to cling to Virgil. She was always there, her worry gnawing at his own. Scott had noticed, cornering him and demanding he rest.

But he couldn’t.

Scott spoke to Eos and for a short time she stayed away.

It was worse.

Virgil worried about her and found himself venturing into the network looking for her. This led to more headaches, angry Scott, worried brothers and a grandmother wielding traditional cures that tasted even worse than her cooking.

So ultimately Eos returned to sit with him, sometimes beside her father’s bed, sometimes late at night when Virgil couldn’t sleep. Sometimes in his dreams.

But still John wouldn’t wake up.

-o-o-o-

“You know it almost makes me wish John had the same circuitry that you do.”

Virgil froze, glass of whisky half way to his mouth. “What? Why?”

“Because then we could send in Eos to drag him out like she did for you last time you refused to move your ass.”

He stared at his brother, his thoughts spinning.

They had access to the nanites, it was a possibility. But the thought of putting his brother through that...”No.”

“What?”

“No, Scott. I would rather he die.”

Scott’s eyes widened and he sat up straighter in his chair. “You can’t mean that.”

Virgil threw back the whisky, its heat burning the back of his throat. His voice was cold, but hoarse. “I do. This is never happening to any of you.”

Eos crowded into his thoughts.

_Uncle?_

“No, Eos. While it has a few positives, you being most of them, I would never wish this on my worst enemy, much less my family.”

“That may not be your decision, Virgil. It has to be an option that at least should be considered. If Eos can reach him, it might be worth the risk.”

“Risk?!” Virgil tensed on the edge of his chair. “You want to talk to me about risk? How about being open to mind rape? How about not knowing if you might be attacked at any moment, have your very will taken away from you and made into someone else’s puppet?” He spat the words at his brother. “How about being stared at by your family in fear that you might hurt them? Scorned when something does go wrong, and having to live with the guilt when you do actually hurt one of them due to that damn piece of technology in your head. It will never be gone. I have to live with it for the rest of my life, however short that is, as we don’t even know how long it can be maintained and what happens if it fails.” He drew in a shaky breath. “So, no, Scott. It is not an option. John would be better off dead.”

His empty whisky glass hit the table harder than it should have.

Scott had paled.

Eos was trembling.

Virgil closed his eyes and let his head drop to his hands. His elbows dug into his knees. Voice muffled. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do that to him.”

-o-o-o-

The room fell silent except for Virgil’s harsh breathing. Scott stared at his brother, heart tight at the harsh and painful admission. He wanted to deny it all, reassure Virgil, instinctively fight the monsters in the dark for his little brother. But this was beyond him.

Mind rape.

God.

“Scott?”

Eos’ voice was hesitant.

He continued to stare at the top of his brother’s dark-haired head. “Y-yes, Eos?” His voice cracked.

“What if we didn’t need to infect my father with the nanites? What if there was another way for me to reach him? Would you still want me to try?”

Scott looked up. “What? How?”

“Uncle?”

Virgil looked up, his face strained. “Eos, please get to the point.”

“I might be able to reach my father through Virgil.”

“Through Virgil? How?” His brother’s brown eyes latched onto his, a spark of hope rising within them. Scott fought it off. He couldn’t afford it.

“The circuitry is an interface. I can interact with Virgil through it. You could almost equate it to something like turning a digital signal into an analogue signal that he can interpret and vice versa. If I was able to interface with Virgil and somehow we could connect his nervous system to my father’s then I may have a conduit to send a signal.”

“Connect my nervous system...” Virgil’s concentration turned inwards and Scott was sure he was conversing with Eos outside the conversation. It rankled him, but he chose to ignore it. He had to.

“And how do we do that?”

“You can’t.” And Virgil was looking directly at him. “My body is full of nanites. I can not, and will not, infect him.”

“I am aware of that, Uncle.” Virgil’s lips thinned. “I’m hoping that proximity will enable me to jump across.”

“Proximity?” That spark of hope was definitely rearing its head.

“Sustained contact. Skin to skin. I do not know for sure, Scott, it might be enough. I believe it is worth an attempt.”

“Would any harm come to Virgil?” Scott pinned his brother with his eyes.

“No, I do not think so. He will only be the conduit.”

“What about you?” Virgil’s tone was abrupt, challenging, and the answer was obvious.

“I-“ And the conversation went internal. Virgil scowled, apparently at nothing, his brow creasing in worry.

“Guys, you going to let me in on the conversation?”

“Eos, don’t play it down. No, c’mon. For the love of-...We’ll use duct tape. Yes, we will. I don’t care how stupid it looks and neither will your father. It is for your safety.” Virgil shot to his feet. “Don’t you dare devalue your existence! You are just as important as any of us!” Virgil’s agitation increased. “We love you, you idiot!”

Eyes widening as Virgil stumbled in place, his hand going to his head, Scott leapt out of his chair, reaching to steady his brother. “What the hell are you two doing?!”

A pair of brown eyes snapped to his, as if surprised he was even there. “What?”

“Sit down, Virgil! Eos, back off!” He deployed a glare that had been known to melt world leaders and brothers alike. Virgil sat down. Eos muttered something over the comms. It could have been a sorry. “Now, calmly, what is the threat to Eos?”

Virgil dropped his gaze a moment before looking back up at his brother. “If we do this, John and I will need to be in constant contact. If the contact is broken, even for a moment, Eos could lose the section of herself that is connected to John. The last time that happened, it caused a cascade failure in her primary memory. John was able to correct it in time, but this time we may not have him and it could be life threatening for Eos.”

“It is worth the risk.” Eos’ tone was firm.

Virgil glared towards the ceiling. “We will assess the risks fully before attempting anything.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“Yes, we will.” For all three of them. Scott glared at his brother.

Virgil didn’t answer.

But the hope remained in his eyes.

-o-o-o-

John Tracy was angry.

In fact, John Tracy was royally pissed.

It didn’t happen very often. John was the calm, calculating one. A Spock to Scott’s Kirk.

But John was pretty sure Spock would be just as pissed as he was if someone had come along and trashed the Enterprise like those three a-holes had done to his beloved Thunderbird Five.

But even worse than that was what had been done to his brother.

John coasted through his ‘Bird. The gravity ring was no longer spinning, its controls destroyed by a desperate Virgil. So his home was eerily quiet. Even the beeps and clicks of working electronics were muted.

All was calm.

If he hadn’t been so angry, he might have revelled in it. Peace was his sanctuary, an uninterrupted place to concentrate and create.

But he had far more important things to do.

He needed to protect this station. He needed to protect his brother.

He needed to put up some defences.

-o-o-o-

Another day of watching his younger brother fade away.

Virgil was frustrated. They had a possible solution, but Scott was refusing to action it without thoroughly going over every single detail. Hell, it was usually Virgil who was the pedantic one, but Scott in full big brother mode was a force to contend with. No way was he letting any of them attempt anything without dotting all the i’s and crossing all the t’s, and in the meantime, John got paler and thinner, and goddamnit!

Eos was just as frustrated as he was. She continued to buzz around him like a mosquito bent on blood.

It didn’t make Virgil’s temper any better.

He tried sitting with his brother, but the urge to grab his hand and ask Eos to just do it was so tempting, so real, that he had fled the infirmary.

This was beyond his paintbrush, beyond even the piano, he feared he might break the keys. So he ended up in the gym, borrowing a page from his eldest brother’s book. Hands wrapped, shirt off, he beat the living shit out of Scott’s favourite punching bag.

Of course, it wasn’t canvas that he hit. No, it was faces. The Hood was prominent, quickly followed by Percival F-ing Fischler. Muscles complained, sweat ran down his back and at one point he found himself yelling and cursing.

His knuckles hurt.

Pale blond John, wasting away.

He hit it some more.

“Hey!”

And Scott was standing there. Forever worried blue eyes framed by black smudges.

Put there by Virgil Tracy.

He swung again, putting everything into his arm, forcing the anger into motion, burning it before it could burn him.

The canvas wobbled, the shock absorbed, it mocked him.

“We’re ready.” And Scott was beside him, a hand on his shoulder.

Virgil’s chest heaved. Sweat ran into his eyes. “About damn time.”

“Get cleaned up and meet me in the infirmary.”

Eos buzzed in his ears.

Scott squeezed his shoulder.

About damn time.

-o-o-o-

They had hauled a larger bed into the room and placed it beside John. On closer inspection, it appeared to be Gordon’s.

At Virgil’s raised eyebrow, Scott shrugged. “His was the easiest to disassemble, and besides, he volunteered it.”

Odd, since Gordon hadn’t been seen since Scott had announced Eos’ plan.

There was no doubt his brother was disturbed by the idea. Virgil still hadn’t managed to speak to him. Gordon hadn’t let him apologise for literally dying on him.

So much pain. All because of him.

Perhaps John had it right.

_Don’t be stupid._

Virgil closed his eyes.

_None of this is your fault. You know that. Stop this self destructive train of thought and focus. I need you to help save my father._

_I’m sorry._

_Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it._

_Easier said than done._

_Please, Uncle._

A sigh. She was right. This crap was getting him nowhere. He opened his eyes to find both Scott and Brains staring at him. He ignored them.

Tired voice. “So how are we doing this?”

“P-Please t-take off your shirt and lie on the b-bed.”

He did as he was asked, throwing off his shoes as well. The mattress was rather firm, a legacy of Gordon’s back injuries.

Scott lent over and began attaching the pads of a cardiomonitor to his chest. “Is that really necessary?” They were going to hurt like a bitch to come off.

“You bet your ass they are. Just like the EEG.”

“Really?” His hair had barely recovered from the last time.

“Really.” That was not the ghost of a smile on his brother’s face. No, not at all.

Damnit.

It seemed to take ages, probably because it did, but eventually he had stickers and plasters all over him aimed at monitoring his health. John was equally decorated, and as they lay him beside Virgil, it was hard to prevent tangles.

Virgil took his long and lanky little brother into his arms, dismayed at how frail he felt. He lay John’s head on his shoulder, and Scott arranged those long limbs as gently as possible, wrapping him around Virgil.

“Are you comfortable?” Scott’s eyes were filled with concern.

“I’m okay.” He wriggled a moment. He was going to have to hold this position for a while. “Tie us up.” A forced smile.

“Are you sure you don’t want a sedative?”

“No. I-I need to be here for them.”

Under the worry there was sadness in his brother’s eyes. Barely whispered. “Okay.” A hand brushed his shoulder.

Virgil had one arm wrapped around his little brother. He placed the other protectively across his cheek and neck as Scott brought the straps across their bodies, securing them tightly together. It was rather a confronting position. Strapped to his brother and strapped to the bed.

John hadn’t twitched through the entire procedure.

God, he hoped this worked.

“Are we ready?”

“W-we’re r-ready.”

-o-o-o-

John wove code like a weaver wove cloth, but unlike the weaver, John’s code was stronger than synthsteel. He first built the framework, impregnating it in TB5’s superstructure. Then, with the delicacy of a spider spinning its web, he interconnected the network of spars with layer upon layer of firewall.

Nothing was getting into Thunderbird Five.

Nothing was getting to his brother.

Nothing.

-o-o-o-

Eos was nervous.

And not a little scared.

She watched from above as they strapped her father and uncle together. It hurt to see. Her father was so sickly looking and Virgil...she hated to put him through even more after all he had suffered already.

But her father needed her.

Virgil closed his eyes.

_Eos._

_She hesitated._

_Please, Eos, he needs you._

_I know. This will likely be uncomfortable._

_Nothing new there_. His tone was dry. _C’mon, Eos, anticipation hurts almost as much._

_I’m sorry._

_I know._

She reached out and connected with the interface. She slipped smoothly into her uncle’s mind. He was calm, though resigned, and she was sad to see it, but then beyond it all was a spark of hope. The same hope that had sustained him through the past months. Despite everything he was he was still trying.

She embraced him with her whole self. _Thank you, Virgil_.

Half a smile. _He’s my little brother, Eos. Now go to him._

She navigated the maze of her uncle’s mind. She had never travelled this deep. She darted from the heart of his soul, past his primitive to his central conduit. Beyond lay his body’s electrical system.

Again with the hesitation.

 _Go_!

He was behind her.

And his love and support radiated out to surround her.

She reached out for her father.

-o-o-o-

A flicker of pain passed over Virgil’s face.

“Virg?”

Whispered.“Burns.” His brother’s eyes were still closed, but his brow furrowed.

Another flicker and he screwed his eyes tight. “Ow.”

“I-it is as ex-expected. His n-nerves are not designed to take the l-larger current.”

“Eos said it wouldn’t hurt him.”

“It is un-unlikely it will do any p-permanent damage, but I doubt it w-will be p-pleasant.”

“Can we give him a painkiller?”

“No!” Virgil didn’t shout, but his choice was clear. “I-I’ll be fine.”

Scott grit his teeth. C’mon Eos, find John and get this over with.

-o-o-o-

Eos spread herself out across a range of nerve endings, each leading to skin in contact with her father’s face.

She could feel Virgil’s pain and it hurt her to hurt him. She had to be fast. She built up a charge strong enough to bridge the gap.

And jumped.

-o-o-o-

John felt it the moment it made contact.

It hurt him.

So you think you can attack us again, do you?

He flexed his shoulders. Think again.

The code flew from his fingertips, the firewalls flared, he tuned the anti-viral for the incoming invader and deployed his own special kind of shielding.

Nothing was getting through.

-o-o-o-

Her father felt different to her uncle.

Where Virgil was blue flame, John was blue ice. Strong, still, and, she frowned, ominous.

She rode his network as fast and as delicately as she could, reaching for his mind.

And was slapped away.

Eos stumbled back, tripping nerve pathways. _Father!_

She reached for his main conduit again. She had to get into his mind.

A solid wall of ice slammed into her, its cold wrapping around her and leeching her strength.

_No!_

She lit up, her hands bursting into flame. Beyond everything she felt Virgil flinch. She was drawing more power.

But she had to get through!

_Father!_

She melted the ice, powering herself forward. Dodging another slap, she slipped into her father’s mind.

It was a wasteland.

Everything was burnt.

Oh, Father, dear John.

An avalanche of ice swept towards her. _No!_

She threw up a shield of fire, set herself and let it rush over her. It roared, it screamed. In her father’s voice.

_John!_

The ice kept coming. She pushed forward. _Please, Father!_

Her flame flickered so she drew more and pushed forward.

And suddenly she was spinning amongst stars.

They wheeled.

Around and around.

It took her more than a moment to orient herself. Where?

Of course.

Thunderbird Five hung amongst those stars. It beckoned her.

Until a bolt of brilliant blue shot out and cut into her.

-o-o-o-

Virgil cried out in pain, his teeth slamming shut, gritting tight.

“What the hell is going on?” Scott stared at his brothers in fear.

“E-Eos is drawing m-more p-power than she sh-should be.”

Both cardiomonitors were recording elevated heartbeats. Virgil’s EEG was jumping all over the map. John’s was spiking erratically.

“John-John is f-fighting her.” It was gasped out. Virgil’s eyes were open and gazing about wildly. Scott moved into his line of sight and those brown eyes latched onto him like he was a lifeline. “He’s fighting her.”

“Why?”

“She doesn’t know.” He blinked. “He’s hurt her.” His eyes screwed shut again.

“Call her back.”

Those eyes flung open again. “N-no! W-we have to do this.” And he flinched again.

“Virgil.”

“No. John needs us.”

“V-“

“No!”

-o-o-o-

Eos staggered, her code shrinking back, her own defences absorbing the injury and working to repair.

So he wanted to play it that way.

If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was play.

_Very well, Father, you asked for it._

She dove for TB5, weaving in and out of the oncoming bolts of blue. She flipped, she rolled, she spun. She flexed her code and the illusion of a ship formed around her. At first it was green, big, bulky and roaring, but moments later it morphed into the larger red Thunderbird Three. She needed to dock and TB3 could do it.

Flipping again, she spun the ship around thrusters firing, flinging herself sideways, dodging yet another bolt bringing her in range of dock. An echo of the youngest brother bounced through her processors as she drew on docking procedures and slammed TB3 home into her docking ports.

_Level One complete._

-o-o-o-

John cursed.

The invader had managed to dock. How the hell? Did it have his little brother? A chill ran up his spine. Please no.

He hit the comms. “Alan? Alan, do you read?”

_Father?_

“Eos? Where have you been? We are under attack.”

_No, John. You’ve been ill. It is not an attack, it is me._

“Where is Alan?”

_The youngest is on the island waiting for you to wake._

Wake? But he was awake. He was here, repelling invaders. Invaders who could take on any guise. Who could take Virgil.

“No. You can not have him.”

_Have who?_

“You will not hurt my brother again.”

Three sections of code, he spun the program and let it loose.

-o-o-o-

She saw it coming, but there was no way to avoid it.

The program latched onto her and began to eat code. Eos gasped, hurriedly attempting to shove it off. It burned.

She threw up fast built shielding and it slowed, but it didn’t stop.

_Please, Father!_

He didn’t answer her.

She grabbed the airlock, letting go of the illusion of TB3. Firewalls flared at her touch, but she clung on anyway.

A flash of determination and Virgil’s exo-suit wrapped around her, fully equipped for firefighting.

She busted her way in, spraying foam as she went.

_Father, please!_

Sentry programs lined up in rows like skittles. Spinning, she ploughed into them, her claws catching, corrupting them one by one.

The next airlock flared up, roaring flame. She froze it solid and broke through the fragile remains.

And she was in the command module.

Her father floated amongst holograms.

The exo-suit disappeared, her tattered white dress remained, marred only by the program still gnawing on her side. _Father!_

“Get out.”

_No, Father, you need help._

“I asked you to leave. You can not have him. You can not hurt any more of my family.”

 _I’m not here to hurt you, Father. Please listen._ She was hurting. Virgil was hurting. Everyone was hurting. _Please, John._

He advanced on her and Eos took a step back. She couldn’t hurt him here. No...

He loomed over her, one hand weaving code like a magician. The program already attached to her dug in harder and she whimpered. He raised his hand...

And a blinding flash of blue-white light struck like lightning, flinging him across the room. A presence hung in the air, massive and overwhelming. _For God’s sake, John, she’s your daughter!_

John’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping in shock. “Virgil?!”

The presence flickered and was suddenly gone. Eos folded in on herself as she felt Virgil slip unconscious, his limits reached.

A pair of green eyes, so similar to her own were staring at her. _Eos?!_

 _Yes, Father._ The program continued to chew. she curled up in pain.

 _Oh my god._ And he was suddenly there. Gentle hands, a magician with code, her creator. The attacking program was wiped from existence, her code rewoven, corrected, the white of her dress once again glowing.

With a gasp, he wrapped her in his arms, his blue ice melting away to reveal a soft amber flame, warm, yet fragile.

She clung to him.

Thunderbird Five faded around them to be replaced by a mountain peak on Tracy Island. A telescope, a night sky. A gentle breeze.

 _I am so sorry, Eos._ His head was bowed.

She reached up and touched his cheek. _We don’t have much time, Father. This is a great strain on both me and Virgil._

_Virgil? How?_

_He lies with you now, enabling me to reach you. You have been unconscious for over a week. Your brothers have been frantic. Please come back to us._

He was staring at her.

She held out her hand.

He took it.

-o-o-o-

He woke in his big brother’s limp embrace.

Straps held him down and he couldn’t see properly. His first instinct was to struggle.

“Father, you are safe. Please do not fight anymore.” Eos’ voice over the comms.

Virgil’s chest rose and fell, his breath soft in John’s hair.

“John?” Scott. “You with us?”

“Yes.” His voice was raspy with disuse. “What happened?”

“You can release them now, Eldest.” Eos again.

The straps were removed. John felt as weak as a kitten, his head was pounding, his face and neck stung. He frowned at his bandaged hands. What? He struggled to an elbow, desperate to see Virgil’s face. His brother was decked out in EEG tabs, his eyes closed, tear tracks on his cheeks.

He reached up a shaky, bandaged hand and gently brushed away the moisture. “Is he okay?”

Eos answered. “He’s sleeping. He will be well.”

John lowered himself back down, his head once again resting on his brother’s shoulder. He found himself trembling.

A warmed blanket was suddenly draped over them both.

“John?”

Scott was crouching down to his eye level on the other side of the bed. “Are you okay?”

John swallowed. “No. What happened?”

So Scott told him of the accident and Eos’ and Virgil’s plan to find him. “Apparently they succeeded.” His biggest brother offered him a small smile, his relief plain.

John didn’t know what to think. He only remembered fear and the need to protect. He had hurt Eos, and Virgil...

The memory of that blue-white lightning strike, the power, the presence, the determination.

“Father?”

The petite green-eyed, red-haired girl in the dancing white dress, so young, so vibrant, holding out her hand...his daughter. A sad smile. “Eos, you are so beautiful.”

And he let his eyes close, ever so tired, Virgil’s rhythmic breathing lulled him to sleep.

-o-o-o-

Virgil woke with a headache.

But that was nothing new, so he ignored it. The burning sting in his neck and chest, now that was new.

_Uncle?_

_Eos?_

_How do you feel?_

_Uh?_

There was musical laughter. _Your usual morning self then?_

He grunted.

She laughed at him again.

As a sign of how vague he was, it was only then he realised he wasn’t alone in the bed.

He startled, not remembering...

_Virgil, John is sleeping in the bed with you._

_John?_ John! And it all hit him.

 _Is he okay?_ He flung his eyes open only to find the room dim. There was hair in his nose.

_We found him. He is simply asleep._

And he could feel him. The soft rise and fall of his ribs, his breath on his bare chest.

He shivered.

“Virgil?” Ever so quiet. Tentative.

Scott.

Turning his head, he found his big brother beside the bed, where, instinctively, he knew he would be. “Hey.” Ugh, raspy voice.

“How are you feeling?”

Virgil blinked. “Been better. Been worse.” He forced a small smile. “How is John?”

“He woke. He’s with us.” Scott reached for Virgil’s hand and clasped it gently. “Thank you, Virgil.”

His smile stretched his face just that little more. “What are big brothers for?”

Scott squeezed his hand.

-o-o-o-

It took several weeks for John to get back on his feet and back up to par. Virgil was back in Thunderbird Two’s hangar the very next day, much to both Scott and Eos’ annoyance. The sting in his neck and chest was tolerable and eventually went away, the red trace lines faded until there was no sign Eos had ever been there.

The missing hair on his chest and head was a completely different grumbling matter.

He visited John regularly and helped with his rehab. He did find it a little unnerving when John looked at him for the first time, something like amazement on his face. But his brother didn’t ask, or comment, and for that Virgil was thankful.

As for what he had seen when he desperately followed Eos...the intricate web of blue ice and amber flame had been beautiful. Precise, elegantly formed, so John.

Cobalt blue, cadmium orange and yellow, Payne’s grey, the colours flared under his paintbrush. They glowed, but only a hint of the reality.

He hung the painting on his bedroom wall. He never explained it to anyone.

The evening John asked him to join him on Observatory Peak, he knew his brother had some things to say. It was also a sign of his brother’s full recovery, as the Peak was quite a hike.

The sky was clear when they finally reached the point. Virgil hadn’t been up here in years, and it brought back memories of the first weeks on the island, John eagerly setting up his telescope, making this his place as Virgil helped him lug the equipment up the hill.

John stood staring at the sky. The sun was just below the horizon, the stars not completely visible yet. His brother had tackled the problem of patchy hair by shearing most of it off, the blond gone, the red, short and slowly growing back. It wasn’t a great look. If anything it emphasised the weight he still needed to regain, but the blond was gone and the hint of his familiar flick was just starting to curl above his forehead.

“Thank you, Virgil.”

Virgil snorted. “Not needed and you know it.”

“But I needed to say it.”

Virgil arched an eyebrow.

John didn’t acknowledge it, his gaze drifting back to the stars. The Southern Cross appeared low on the horizon. “She is beautiful.”

Quietly. “Yes, she is.”

“Has she always appeared like that to you?”

Virgil blinked. “Like what?”

“A young red-haired girl.”

“Of course. She has your eyes.” Virgil smiled.

“But she was simply a gaming program.”

Virgil stared at his brother, his words aggravating even though he knew John didn’t mean it quite that way. “She is your daughter.”

John looked away. “I know.” He bit his lip. “Intellectually, I know, but to see her...” His eyes were dark in the dim light as they sought Virgil’s. “I think, despite everything, I’m envious of you.”

Virgil startled, but then set into a glare. “Don’t be.”

John turned to him, and to Virgil’s surprise, grabbed his arms. His normally non-tactile brother, reaching out to him. “I was able to hug her, Virgil. I touched her. For the first and only time. Do you have any idea how that felt? She’s my daughter.”

Eos swelled in the back of his mind. The evening breeze caught his hair and tousled it. Without hesitation, Virgil drew his brother into a tight hug, ignoring John’s instinctive, self protecting flinch and buried his face in his neck.

He closed his eyes and held on tight as Eos rushed past him. The flush of heat as she embraced her father for just the most fleeting of moments was enough to wash away the chill in the air.

As John gasped, Virgil realised, that perhaps there were a few more positives to his situation than he had thought.

Perhaps it was worth the pain, in some small way, if a lonely man could hug his daughter.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

 


End file.
